I'm Half Doomed & You're Semi Sweet
by ListlessLiar
Summary: More than anything, Jesse wishes they had a chance.
1. Chapter 1

_**Title:**__ I'm Half Doomed & You're Semi - Sweet**  
Pairing, Character(s):**__ Jesse St. James/Rachel Berry  
__**Rating:**__ PG-13.  
__**Spoilers:**__Up to Hell-O. (For this part) But the entire fic will continue up to 'Journey'._

* * *

Jesse St. James is fairly certain he could never make it in a career as a spy. Sure he has the required elements of stealth, intelligence, physical health (and appearance), but even with all of that, he's committed the one fault that has to be at the top of every spy's "Do Not Ever (Under Any Circumstance) Do List". He'd fallen for his _assignment_.

Jesse St. James is fairly certain he could never make it in a career as a spy if Rachel Berry had anything to do with it.

* * *

The initial task had started easy enough; find Rachel Berry, woo her, guide her to her mother's (Shelby's) arms, win a 4th consecutive show choir national championship title. It had started easy enough.

He remembers the first time he saw her, or rather the first time he'd been forced to pay attention to her. It was an instinctual response, his body reacted to talent on its own regard and he couldn't have been happier for that fact than in that moment. She commanded her audience; her form was flawless, voice powerful and crystal clear; Jesse couldn't look away.

The only flaw was a slight lack of confidence (probably only detectable to him) that had hindered the emotional depth of the legendary song. It grew with each syllable though, as the performance gained momentum, so did she. Embracing the intensity Barbra had embedded in the song, but adding her own. The song meant something to her, she held a connection that had been void in any of the other performances he'd seen that day (and he was being honest, in quite some time).

She hits the last note flawlessly, holding it with the ease of a seasoned performer. The audience's loud cheering is what breaks him out of a trance that had left him (almost) completely stunned.

Rachel Berry, he thinks, had inherited quite the talent. He leaves before they ever exit the stage, he already knew who won.

* * *

The next time he sees her it's a sort of accident. He'd asked around and found out that Rachel frequented the local Lima music/book store. So he took a trip and decided to scope the place out.  
The first few times he goes she's not there, he looks around and browses the selection of sheet music and books (the celebrity biographies become his personal favorite). The place soon becomes a favorite of his; the quiet murmur of people engaged in conversation, the low sounds of music lessons being giving in the back rooms wafts through the space to create an ideal calming atmosphere.

He wanders in one day after a particularly draining practice with Vocal Adrenaline to spot Ms. Berry herself perusing through a copy of "The Very Best of Lionel Richie". He understandably panics, as assimilating himself into her life hadn't been planned until next week. Even so, he gears himself up for the challenge (he's anything if not quick on his feet), steels his shoulders and struts over to the brunette.

The Rachel Jesse had prepared himself for is the exact opposite of the one he gets. He'd imagined Rachel's off stage persona to be equivalent to the one onstage. What he gets is a sort of timid, reserved version of that dynamic girl who sang 'Don't Rain on My Parade" like she owned it. He doesn't know whether to be disappointed or delighted (he'll later find out the timid Rachel Berry he met that day was only one side of her personality and it was brought out because of him; he's more pleased about that than he probably should be).

They wander around for a while, (rather he walks and she follows closely behind, dazed and star struck) him doing much of the talking, he doesn't mind (he's used to it). Then he gets an idea that's nothing short of genius.

Sitting down on the piano bench he plays he first few bars to "Hello" before he begins to sing, beckoning her to do the same (he wants to see_ that_ girl again). He peaks out of the corner of his eye and watches her face as awe takes over. He smirks, not even fathoming the idea of humility, he was _that _good. The smirk however, fades as she opens her mouth to join him in the song. He has to fight for concentration, almost missing a key.

This time her performance is flawless. Their voices blend together in a way that seems to be meant to be. Jesse is not one to believe in fairy tales and destiny (other than his own inevitable success as a performer) but singing with Rachel made him want to. They were so in synch it was disconcerting and yet he could imagine himself doing this and nothing else as long as she was with him.

The songs ends, applause begins, the adrenaline of a performance wears off, and he regains his bearings. Rachel Berry was an assignment, nothing else. He skips ahead a few more days on his meticulous plan to woo, and asks her out for a date on Friday. Rachel Berry was an assignment.

She smiles at him and right then he knows he's doomed.


	2. Chapter 2

Rachel Berry carries a rape whistle. It's one of the most ridiculous things Jesse has ever heard. What exactly is the difference between a rape whistle and a regular whistle, Jesse wants to know (he'll Google it later). Wouldn't mace be more effective?

Even so, Rachel has one and though in his mind it's superfluous and absolutely absurd, he can't help but find it a bit endearing. He's begun to find a lot of things about her endearing actually. Like right now, she's looking up at him with her big brown eyes, making it harder and harder for the words he's saying to feel like a lie.

It's crazy really, how he could be in this deep and only known the girl for a week. They kiss, slow and sweet like old lovers in a noir film. He feels eyes on him and his open as a result. Shelby gaze is locked on them, looking far too please with his current predicament have initially asked him to befriend Rachel . Even so, it that grounds him, get's his heart out of his throat and his feet back on the ground.

He wishes he could go back to Friday, to when he could pretend this wouldn't happen. He could pretend that they had a chance. 

* * *

For their date, Jesse takes Rachel to a private screening of "What's up Doc." He'd kept her in the dark about his film choice the entire ride over. That had led her to blurting out a myriad of guesses from Grease to Gypsy. It had been amusing to say the least.

When they finally get to the theater she's immediately put off by the lack of patrons. That changes as soon as she sees the title and he doesn't even have to tell her before her face lights up and she just knows.

He'd called in a favor, making sure the theater was closed so he and Rachel could enjoy the film without being subjected to any interruptions, and if by chance that meant that they could recite the lines as loudly as they wanted back at the screen (or to each other) then so be it. They amble into the screening room after an absurd amount of time debating over which snacks would best enrich the cinematic experience before settling into their seats, front row and center.

They watch the film intently (even after seeing it as many times as they had) before they inevitably start to deliver the lines right along with the actors, smiling at each other the entire time. It's ridiculous really, how much fun he's having, doing, in reality, nothing at all. They fall silent after a while, enthralled in the happenings on screen.

It's a little while later after Jesse has discreetly slipped his hand into Rachel's that he lets his gaze wander over to her. "As Time Goes By" is starting up on screen and Rachel is singing along quietly (well as quietly as she can) and he just has to. So he does.

Leaning over slightly, he takes her hand and she immediately looks over at him. As if sensing the merit of the moment Rachel closes her eyes and leans up to him just enough for their lips to touch.

The kiss for lack of better words is perfect. It's slow and sweet, full of…, what Jesse doesn't know but he does know he _needs_to do it again. So he does. Again and again and again.

"Who's Eunice?"

Jesse doesn't know either. 

* * *

Later, when he's walking Rachel to her front door, she'll ask him why he chose to take her to see that film when they were plenty of other Streisand films to choose from (she's not complaining only curious).

He tells her it's because aside from her musicals, obviously, Barbara's comedies are her best work, this one in particular. She looks up at him for a moment like she's about to argue, put in her own two cents (and he welcomes it, always in the mood for a friendly debate). She doesn't though, just "hmms" and gives him a small smile like she'd just realized the night is about to end.

"Goodnight Rachel." He leans down to kiss her cheek only to have her shift at the last second. He catches her lips.

"Goodnight Jesse" she gives him a smile that is definitely in a competing category with his show face. It's the most endearing thing he's ever seen. 

* * *

Jesse wishes he could go back to that night in the theater when it was just he and Rachel acting along to a story that wasn't theirs and never would be. He wishes things could be different.

He doesn't want her to bear any pain or heartache. When their credits roll, when their screen fades to black he wants to know that they'll be happy, that they'll have a chance, a future. Like Judy and Howard, he wants them to have a happy ending.

But they can't, he's sure of it.


	3. Chapter 3

Acting has always been an enjoyable activity for Jesse, another valuable skill to add to his extensive repertoire, one that would only aid him in his life's ambitions. He'd excelled at acting early on in life, gracing the stage of a crowded auditorium full of disgruntled parents in an elementary school production of _Hair_ (he'd been the _only_ notable performer).

Jesse knows he's a (more than) exceptional actor, but at this moment he's not entirely sure as to how long he can keep up the façade. He'd tried venomously, even pulling out his famous show face when Rachel showed him the tickets. Jesse's a wonderful actor, but even he can't pretend he's actually enjoying his attendance at a Wiggles concert.

He looks around him, checking thrice just to be sure, and finally comes to the conclusion that they are the oldest occupants at the concert who are _not_ chaperoning a child. Rachel's standing on his right, her body practically emanating joy with a large grin on her face as she sings along to some preposterous song about fruit salad. He chances a glance to his left and see's a young girl probably no older than four, her entire stance mirrors Rachel's. Jesse can't believe he's actually here.

The "performers" on stage begin another song from their extensive set list; it's about hot potatoes. Hereally, _really_ can't believe he's here. Jesse turns to Rachel again, feeling her eyes on him, and this time he's met not with the image of her enamored with the happenings on stage but a devious, playful smile.

Jesse's thrown for a moment because from the beginning of their courtship to now, he'd prided himself on being able to decipher Rachel's every presented expression. But this one is new; it isn't the adorable confused smile that's usually accompanied by a slight crunch in her forehead nor the bright, gleeful one she gets whenever she tremendously excited about something (usually performing).

It takes Jesse a while to figure it out, to finally put the pieces together. He goes over the before realization nearly knocks him over the head and he realizes he's been bested. Rachel hadn't invited him because she thought he'd enjoy the concert, she hadn't done it because she wanted his company. She'd invited him to test him. "Rightfully so," he thinks. They'd been dating a little over a month now but she needed to see if he was serious. She was risking far more than he in this relationship and she couldn't continue in it if he wasn't as sincere about it as she was.

Jesse shocked, she had fooled him and he can't bring himself to be even the slightest bit upset. More amused than anything else, Jesse slips into character and doesn't disappoint. He comes up close behind her and slings his arms around her waist, pulling her in close before leaning down towards her ear.

"Having a good time?" His words hold a double meaning, they both know it but that doesn't deter either one of their performances.

Rachel nods against his chest and he doesn't need to see her face to know she's smiling. They sway together for awhile before Jesse starts to sing along to one of the many repetitive lyrics just to tease her. He feels Rachel chuckle against him before turning in his arms a wide grin on her face. It's a smile he knows and feels damn good about causing.

She knows she's been outdone, that he's figured out her plan and decided to play along and from the engrossed look in her eyes and the sweet kiss she presses against his lips, it seems like he's done exactly what she wanted.

Jesse confident he's passed this test. 

* * *

After the concert he drives them back to Rachel's, their hands intertwined over the gear shift nearly the entire ride. They talk aimlessly the whole way back(mostly Rachel explaining her tactical approach to a small but formidable victory playing skee-ball; he'd gotten a Care Bear out of it, it was an intriguing story), occasionally singing along to the songs they recognize on the radio.

Jesse likes when they're like this, playful and too caught up in each other to let their minds wonder to the trials that hang over their heads. He knows he's setting them both up for a devastation that neither of them are prepared for; it's the kind that ends up legendary. He knows that this feeling that burgeoning in the pit of his stomach isn't just endearment anymore; he's falling, falling fast. He couldn't stop it but he could pretend.

Jesse's a wonderful actor, but even he can't quell what his mind knows and what his heart feels. 

* * *

When they finally reach her house he ambles out of the car quickly. It's dark out and the street is a little too quiet for his liking and besides chivalry wasn't dead. The walk up the pathway silently and he notes that her fathers aren't home and he's not the least bit ashamed of his hopes for a particularly lengthy goodnight night kiss. He gets exactly that.

The kiss starts slowly (as they usually do) before picking up momentum and they begin kissing soundly on the front stoop of her house. And it's probably a scandalous thing to do at this hour in this location but he could care less because right now Rachel is kissing him and he can't seem to focus on anything else. But then _that_ feeling starts up again. It's stronger than before, starting up at the pit of his stomach then slowly working its way up until it feels as if someone has a vice grip around his heart and he's breathless for reasons other than lack of oxygen and he has to pull away. Not a moment too soon it seems because out of the corner of his eye he can see a dull light flicking on and off. Rachel seems to notice it too and they both turn to see an elderly woman scowling at them as she finally ceases her light show.

"Good evening Mrs. Meriwether," Rachel says politely as a deep blush takes over her face and Jesse can tell she's fighting hard not to laugh before she turns to him and drags him into the house. He has no doubt her dads will be hearing about this.

As soon as the front door closes behind them Rachel lets out the giggle she's been holding in and before long he's joining in too. They laugh loudly all the way up the stairs to her room until they're doubled over trying to catch their breath with shallow gasps that escape with each chuckle.

When their laughter dies down, Jesse saunters over to her from his spot against her door to wrap his arms around her, his hands settling just below her hips as her head leans on his chest.

"So did I pass your test?" There's teasing in his tone but also slight inquiry.

"With flying colors."

His ears perk up, "Really? Well, I do work well under pressure." he may be confident but a compliment every now and then never hurt.

She hmphs, looking up at him through long lashes with a teasing grin on her face, "Mrs. Meriwether might disagree."

"That doesn't count, I was distracted."

"Oh, by what?" She get's _that_ smile again, and Jesse decides he likes Rachel sly.

He shows her though, she could be a wonderful distraction, leaning down he presses his lips against hers, and it's almost as if the previous interruption never happened. The transition is almost seamless, like they're still in front of her house caught up in a moment they never wanted to end. He doesn't even notice they've been walking backwards until they hit her bed.

She looks up at him for a moment, eyes a bit wide like she's deciding something. Eventually she leans backwards on the bed, wordlessly beckoning him to follow her. She doesn't voice any qualms but she intently slows the pace of their kiss, that's all the hint he needs.

But then, just like earlier on her stoop; that felling starts up again, low and troublesome in the pit of his stomach. Even stronger this time, not only constricting his heart but seizing his entire body. And then he's shocked still because then he finally gets its. The thoughts that have been lurking in the back of his head hit him full force and he realizes; he loves her.

It's too much, it's too soon and he can't breathe the feeling is so intense. He presses against her a little more firmly, kisses her all the more deeply. Then another feeling seeps in; he knows _this_, he can handle _this_, it's one he's felt plenty of other times with plenty of other girls. Arousal is a simply easy emotion, one that he has no problem, of coursed he'd want her; she's gorgeous.

He can't not want her, it's impossible, most of the time he can barely keep his hands off her; always craving her touch, her gaze, her kiss. He always wants her and now isn't any different, except it is.

_This_ though, _this_ is an easy role to slip into; it's rehearsed and off-handedly expected. So easy in fact, the words are out of his mouth before they hit his filter (he's worked hard to develop that).

"We should do it."

Rachel tenses against him as he showers kisses down the column of her neck. She's hinting at it, doesn't want to come right out and say it, but it doesn't register. His mind is too preoccupied with pushing _that_ feeling down and keeping _this_ role in play. It doesn't register until his eyes bore right into hers eyes and _sees_. Then he's off her like he's been burnt and there's no more acting, no more pretenses, just Jesse. He feels a bit disgusted with himself for losing control, for getting too caught up in a role he knows he doesn't want to play, not with her.

God how did she do this? Get him in so deep so fast? It was the most maddening question he's ever had to answer, infuriating even. How did she do this to him?

He had to leave; he _needs_ to leave, because God, _every _part of him wanted her. Every character, he's thought up, every role he's been put forth to play; they needed her, they craved her, they _loved_ her.

"I need to go." It's choked out as he rushes for her door, so fast he doesn't see her hurt expression.

"Jesse wait, what-"

"I need to go." He says it firmer this time, hoping she understood. He couldn't be around her, not now, not when she had such a domineering control over his entire being; his body, his heart.

"I'll call you," it's the last thing she hears before he's out of her room, down the steps and out of her house.

It's not until he's reached his car does he finally breath, letting out harsh ragged breaths. His breathing slows but his heartbeat doesn't. He takes one last glance at her house before starting his car and driving away.

Jesse is an amazing actor, but even he couldn't fool his heart.


	4. Chapter 4

Being a member of Vocal Adrenaline warrants a large amount of responsibility; it requires talent (obviously), the memorization of dance steps some professionals might even have trouble with, a commitment level of 357%, a nonexistent chance of going off pitch, immaculate stage presence, a 'take no prisoners' mentality, and most importantly a desire to win so ferocious it borders on psychotic. Being a member of Vocal Adrenaline is difficult, but being lead was an entirely different brand of grueling.

It's not as if Jesse can't handle it, he's held the spot as lead vocalist since his freshman year (when he waltzed into the Carmel High auditorium with immense talent and an ego to match). Jesse can certainly manage the responsibility that goes along with being the male lead of such a highly successful glee club as Vocal Adrenaline, but that didn't make the position any less demanding.

His fellow team members don't particularly understand the extra work that goes into being lead. They only know his position to be one of power, accolade, and revere. No one on the team had a clue as to the daunting schedule he maintained to be the _best_. He was envied he knew that, everyone wanted to be lead, it meant having a special amount of power and leeway that was absent for the other members. But for all of its perks, it definitely had its disadvantages. His teammates wanted to be lead because of the rewards but they were so unprepared for the sacrifices.

Jesse couldn't blame them either; he had made the hard work seem effortless, like he didn't get up at 6am every morning to make a protein shake and change into his exercise clothes so that he could the treadmill by 6:15 and off by 7 to take a shower, get dressed and get ready for school. He handled his position with such grace it was as if he didn't go to ballet lessons after practice on Mondays; jazz on Tuesdays, piano on Wednesdays, vocal lessons on Thursdays and acting classes on Fridays.

But Jesse did do all of that every day, without fault to make sure he was the best. He made his sacrifices and he got the rewards and yet there were others who still believed they were more suited for lead than he was; those who only did the required, who didn't understand you didn't get to be lead because you wanted to be, you weren't awarded solos just because you were a part of the club. No, you got it because you worked for it, painstakingly so until you were the _best_, until you deserved it and he did. Rachel did too.

They talked about that, working so hard only to be faulted for reaping the benefits. About how even the teammates who they'd come to call friends could easily turn against them and forget all the good they'd done for the team. They didn't blame them, though it was constantly in the back of their heads to make sure that they were always on top of their game because if they slipped up, there'd be plenty in line to take their place.

That's the position Jesse finds himself in at the moment, running through choreography for a routine which Vocal Adrenaline standards is quite simple. He's only half concentrating on the steps while his mind wanders to Rachel and how exactly he plans to apologize for what happened the other night at her house. Midway through contemplating an adoring letter and dispensing with the idea of apologizing through song (he'd end up paying more attention to the performance than the actual apology) he misses a step. For the others it's almost as if time slow down and a collective gasp leaves their lips. Jesse _never_ missed steps. There's low muttering among his team members as Shelby ambles up the stage to speak with him.

They talk in whispers as she inquires as to why her best performer was getting sloppy with such an elementary routine months before regionals. She doesn't except his answer of having a lot on his mind and continues questioning him relentlessly; not letting up until Rachel's name is mentioned. She noticeably tenses then before badgering him with questions about the girl.

He doesn't give away much, just tells her they got into a "disagreement". It's rather vague, he knows, but he hasn't exactly told Shelby he's dating her daughter, seeing as how her initial instruction had been to "befriend"(even though he's pretty sure "befriend" was to be taken as a synonym for "by any means necessary"). And besides, however estranged she might be Shelby was still Rachel's mother and he doesn't particularly want her to make him run scales three hours straight for trying to have sex with said daughter, practice was long enough as it was.

She seems to accept this for the time being and encourages him to fix whatever was troubling the two of them before calling practice to an end. Jesse stays late to rework the steps he missed and formulate his plans for apologizing. He decides on dramatic and intense(ly remorseful) with a hint ambiguity. He practices his speech in the bathroom mirror seven times before calling Rachel and setting up a meeting place. He needed to fix this and not he and Rachel, but for Shelby. He had to remember why this entire thing began in the first place, and he wasn't going to disappoint her. 

* * *

The McKinley High library is for lack of better words, _cozy_. Jesse's reasonably sure it could fit rather comfortably in the right wing of the Carmel library, but that's neither here nor there. As it turns out they're biography section carries an extensive Sondheim selection (he takes it as a message from the Broadway Gods). Always punctual, Rachel arrives right on time and he immediately begins his perfectly orchestrated apology.

It's a strange thing really, the looks she gets in her eye after he's finished, the way it propels a feeling deep within his soul that has him thinking maybe she feels _this_ too. This incredibly unnerving love that's forged its way into his being (something he's still not entirely comfortable with). Then she tells him, trusts him with one of the biggest things he can be trusted with and he _knows_. She loved him too; she had to.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Yesh, I never meant to abandon this story, but I do want to finish. So to make amends and in celebration of Glee's season two premiere, I bring you new chapter and fanmix. Fanmix can be found at my Livejournal: turbulent_skye.

* * *

Jesse prides himself on being a meticulous person. He's a planner, a strategic organizer of all things necessary because usually when something went wrong it was because they was no plan in place to prevent it. Jesse is a planner, but Rachel, Rachel is an orchestrator. Two days after she tells him she's "ready" they meet up again in the McKinley High library to discuss the schematics of their approaching "consummation" ; her words, not his.

She arrives at exactly 7:45 with a poster board in tow. The hot pink, standard size board seemed to overflow with information as Rachel began an obviously rehearsed spiel explaining her rough draft of what would be their ideal itinerary. Jesse cranes his head to the side as to better make out a small section that brought up the topic of color coordinating outfits. Halfway into a sentence that somehow managed to both insult and praise the "copious" amount of black he wore, he needs to chime in.

"Rachel." His voice, while carrying a tone that seems almost dumbfounded, still manages to break her mid stride. Her right hand is still outstretched toward a schedule located at the top left corner of the board as she turns to the source of her interruption, her expression displeased. It'd be adorable if he wasn't at such a loss. He takes a closer look to where she'd been pointing, Rachel had scheduled their foreplay.

That does it; he loses any sense of decorum as the laughter he'd been trying to keep at bay finally breaks free from his throat. For her part, Rachel doesn't seem to appreciate this laughter. She gets this look on her face, liken to that of a wounded puppy, he's never seen it before and he never wants to see it again. He sobers up quickly.

"Rachel", he rises from his spectators' seat to pull her into him, "while I appreciate the obvious thought and effort that went into this, I'm not exactly sure I know what's going on here".

He feels her take a deep breath against his chest and feels more than hears her words as they're murmured into his neck. "I just, this is a big step in our relationship and I'm nervous, and when I get nervous, I plan. This", as she motions to her poster board, "is the result of my dads' joking around the kitchen table this morning telling me 'not to do anything they wouldn't do while they're on their couples retreat this weekend'. I choked on my organic orange juice."

"Rachel, we don't have to do this."

"No, I want it's just, having a plan would put me a bit more at ease." Rachel's face is the picture of determination and Jesse know what that means, Rachel's made up her mind and no one is going to change it.

"Alright, but maybe would could make it more of an, outline. I really don't think foreplay need to be scheduled for exactly fifteen minutes and forty seven seconds", his expression goes serious then, "I'm going to care you."

Rachel nods looking up at him such open eyes before kissing him firmly, pouring every ounce of emotion she can muster. It feels a lot like trust.

When they break away, Rachel's eyes are still closed and Jesse watches her face and takes in the contours, memorizes the lines and the freckles until Rachel opens her eyes.

"Come on", Jesse says, taking Rachel's hand and tugging her along gently, "If we leave now we can make it to the 8:30 showing. Buckland Community Theater is putting on a production of _Lend Me a Tenor_. I thought we could go, silently mock and then leave detailed critics in the suggestion box."

Rachel's eyes light up and she snatches her poster board off the table before clambering besides Jesse. "Wait, do you think we'll run out of paper?"

Jesse's laughter springs forth deep from his chest, God he loved her.

* * *

His next practice with Vocal Adrenaline is, interesting to say the least. Apparently his miss-step last practice made a few members lose their mind. Chris Riley, tenth year senior, actually had the gall to tell him to "watch his pitch". Maybe if he went to a math class, or any class for that matter, he wouldn't have time to worry about anyone's pitch but his own. And Andrea, Crohn's Disease and all, stepped smack dap in the middle of _his _spotlight during _his_ solo.

Instances like that go on for the duration of practice until he's had enough. Hands crossed at his chest, he confronts the problem head on, going into excruciation detail. He explains that he's lead for a reason "I'm better, hands down. I work harder, I learn faster and I'm just better. And if any of you think you can you could do what I do better than me, think again. You wouldn't last a minute in my shoes." He exits quickly and forcefully; a storm out sure to be legendary.

* * *

Jesse sits outside Rachel's house a full twenty minutes before knocking, mostly due to the fact that Rachel's fathers took an extraordinary long time in their departure and he really didn't want to make small talk with the two men when he fully intended to deflower their daughter in her bedroom, under their roof, while they were gone. No one is equipped for that type of pressure.

When Rachel answers the door her hair is half curled and she's still wearing what Jesse assumes to be her school attire. When they reach her room he gets a quick peck on the lips before Rachel rushes off with a purple cloak (he's glad they decided not go with coordinating outfits). While Rachel get's ready he ambles around her room, looking over details he's seem hundreds of times. The worn books on her shelves, the Broadway poster adorning her walls even the pink guitar in the far corner, it all made the room so, Rachel. Minutes go by and Rachel has yet to exit her bathroom and Jesse has half a mind to wonder if she had trouble putting on her cloak.

"Rachel, you okay in there?"

"Just a minute." She's sounds panicked, Jesse's worried.

"Are you sure, do you want me to some in there?"

"No! I mean I'm fine I'm just; I don't think I can do this."

"Just some out so we can talk, or sing about it."

It's odd hearing Rachel talk so fondly of her team when Jesse's just about had it with his own. The Team? If that's all that was preventing Rachel from being fully his then he's have to take care of it. The McKinley High Glee Club was turning out to be an unforeseeable thorn in his side.

The moment is over and Rachel is looking at him with doe eyes and petite pout, effectively making Jesse melt. He presses a kiss on e crown of her head, before rising he offers his hand, "movie, your choice."

* * *

Partway into _Funny Girl_ once Rachel had finished reprimanding him after he said he liked her cloak, "it's a capelet", Jesse realizes his earlier fears had no merit at all because, this is what love feels like; warm and comfortable enjoying her company. Even when Rachel talks over his favorite part, (which happens to be hers too) and the pizza turns up just as Fanny arrives to meet Nick for dinner, Jesse can't help his elation, his content. So when 'You Are Woman, I Am Man' begins and they start to sing along; getting out of their seats to act along with the screen, the performance ending up far more erotic than it should be, Jesse decides that Rachel Berry will be the death of him and he couldn't have picked a better fate.


End file.
